Memories
by petitanglaise
Summary: Isabella - Carlisle Cullen's daughter is bitten and ripped away from her family and now, as the years pass attempts to be reunited but when she finally is she discovers that her father has a new wife, a new family and a new life.
1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note: This story has been in my head for a long time now and I'm finally putting pen to paper. I know it's been a long time since I have updated, two whole years in fact but I went through some family stuff and moved to a different country so it's been a busy couple of years, moving from England to Paris and then to the US is no easy feat. But I'm here now and determined to give these characters their ending, releasing them from their unfinished cyber space floating. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything to do with Stephanie Meyer's Saga_

**PROLOGUE**

I was sitting in my father's study, curled up behind his desk on his big, comfy leather chair. It was four in the morning and I had been leafing through the papers on his desk in a half-hearted attempt to distract myself from the truth. I allowed a brief smile to pass my lips every time I saw his elaborate signature on the official papers of the city, London to be exact. I glanced at the clock in the corner of the room, watching as the second hand ticked and swirled methodically, allowing myself to sink deeper into the comfortable chairs and relax. Feeling a chill I stuck my wool and silk covered toes towards the hearth in the corner, it's ever dimming ambers still letting out slight warmth.

He should have been home by now I worried, _why wasn't he home_? I smoothed my dressing gown out in irritation and ran my fingers through my tangled curls. I needed to stop myself from falling asleep. The candles where coming to the end of their wicks and glowed softly in the dark room, casting darkness in the corners of the packed study, lulling me to sleep. I wished halfheartedly that I could wake up Mrs. Grayson, the housekeeper, to make me some of the lemon tea father has brought back from France, but she would send me straight to bed. I knew that there I would only be plagued by nightmares filled with shadows and monsters and blood. Those shadows could have been hunting my father that very moment…

"Isabella!" The door slammed open with a resounding smack as it hit the wall directly behind and I jumped from my slouched position in shock. There, standing in the darkened hallway looking tired and panicked was my father. For a man of only thirty he looked much younger, his teeth still white as the pearls from the ocean his eyes still bright, unusual for the time period. He was wearing his usual uniform of a loose shirt and breeches, a sash across his chest to show his superiority, a gun tucked into his belt as if that would suffice as some kind of protection. The moment he saw me he dug his hands into his golden blonde locks and heaved a sigh, he took in my frightened expression with weary eyes, "I am sorry my darling, you weren't in your room as I went to check. I panicked." He conceded, walking over and kissing my forehead, smoothing my hair adoringly.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you... I was having trouble sleeping..." I said carefully, not wanting to reveal my nightmares again, he always worried too much. "Are you alright?" I asked, taking in his agitated appearance.

He nodded and his golden hair swirled with his movements, the angelic hair that left the women of London swooning. I watched him contently as he began moving around his desk, sorting through the mess I had made while I had been reading his affairs and dealings of business. I tilted my head, taking him in, I was always surprised that he had never remarried, I always had been. It was not that I particularly wanted him too, our household was well balanced and any new intrusion could have disrupted this, no I was in no hurry for him to feel the urge. But he had always worshiped my mother; he thrived in the relationship being such a caring person. I didn't believe he would survive without having a woman to look after him, a woman to love, but he seemed to be happy, even without a woman by his side.

"Father," I asked prodded in a questioning tone, wondering now.

He glanced at me and gave me a short but sincere smile, "Yes, darling?"

"Are you happy?" I said quietly.

He paused in his reshuffling of papers and I refused to meet his eyes. I kept my eyes fixed at the glass bauble on his desk and only raised my eyes when his finger prodded the underside of my chin, raising my head to his. "Why would you ask that?" He spoke softly, tentatively, curling my hands with his much larger, soft ones.

I shrugged embarrassed, "Well, mothers been gone for a very long time now and you haven't remarried, not that I want you to." I continued hastily, "It's just that I want you to be happy." I spoke slowly, trying to make him see that I was being completely truthful but then I imagined it. Some young girl not a year older than me that he could have another daughter with, a replacement for the family that fell apart around him.

He saw the tightening in my eyes and smiling softly, his blue eyes shining, "How could I be unhappy Isabella?" He cupped my cheek affectionately, "I have a beautiful daughter who is healthy and happy, who I love more than the world itself. I couldn't wish for anything else because I have already been given so much. I had your mother's love for ten amazing years Isabella and she gave me the greatest gift of all and that is enough for me. "

I smiled and he pulled me up from the seat and into his embrace, holding me tightly against him, "You won't ever leave me will you?" I cried, "Every time you leave at night I'm scared that you'll never come back and that I will be alone. I couldn't survive without you father, I wouldn't" I began to cry hysterically.

He shushed me soothingly and sat back on his chair, pulling me onto his lap, rocking me like a child, "I will never leave you Isabella, Never. I promise I will always be here for you when you need me and I will always protect you."

I nodded against his chest and let out a shaking sigh of relief, and as he murmured little melodies to me I fell into a deep and nightmare free slumber, waking only when I felt arms lowering me under the canopy of my bed.

"Goodnight Sweetheart." My father murmured kissing my brow again and pulling the covers up to my chin, "I love you."

"I love you." I slurred my reply as sleep overtook me again.

After that night life went on as usual. I continued with my father's strict education plan which consisted of regimented horse riding, dance, song, music, mathematics, English, French, alchemy, science lessons… the list went on and on, and where my father did not believe a paid tutor would do the job, he would dedicate his time to tutor me himself. In my little free time I went shopping with my few friends and attended the odd ball that my father found the time to accompany me to. I was always amazed at the time my father spent dedicated to me, long discussions in his study about the better novels that filled the shelves took up hours almost every night whereas my friends struggled to sit down to a meal with my parents more than once in a week. We were happy, content if time came to a sudden halt, allowing us to sit and talk and not have things such as my age and expectancy to marry looming over us. This was all before that night though. The night that would be burned into my head forever more.

The banging on the door woke me with a jolt, the echo's wandering down the halls and into my bedroom. It's funny how one's life can go from going so well to so incredibly wrong in a matter of moments… but I suppose you could apply the saying what goes up must come down to feelings and circumstances. Little did I know that today would be the day that my sheltered life would go spiraling out of control?

Living in the heart of London was a dangerous business in these times, even if you lived on the upper class side of the city. I knew immediately that the banging was no sign of good fortune.

When my mother left me and my father six years after I was born due to pneumonia it had been just the two of us. I had been heartbroken at the time, as had my father naturally, but I took comfort that I was able to say that her suffering had ended… it had been the silver lining on such a dark cloud for I had seen her deteriorate day by day for weeks. The best doctors, even my father, found themselves unable to nurse her back to health.

I had sat by her and read to her, sang to her and held her hand whilst she would send me small smiles and stroke my hair gently apologizing over and over. I had never understood why but father said that she felt guilty for leaving me without a mother. Her guilt had only made me more upset, although I knew that wasn't her intention.

My father and I had been close but my mother and I - she was my best friend, my one true confidant. She had taught me how to ride and indulged me in dresses she shouldn't have, she had taught me how to read and protected me from all the evils of the world.

I suppose I was incredibly lucky that I had such an amazing father to support me after her passing. When my mother died, my father didn't speak to me… didn't look at me for days, I guessed it was due to the likeness in looks between my mother and I but after the funeral he had become everything my mother had ever been and more.

The term 'daddy's girl' was an understatement. I would say my father was the main reason I was still an unwed woman at that point. It is not that I had not received interest but my father, being so reluctant to let me go, shielded me from there unwanted eyes to keep me close. I was also mature enough to understand that whomever I married would receive a large inheritance from my father due to me being his only child. I wanted to marry for love as my father had.

My grandfather was the priest at the town's parish which was the first part of my family's income but my father was employed in a much different manner. My father was a practicing doctor by day but also lead the hunt for creatures of the darkness at night. I hated every single part of it, it was dangerous and I was not so naïve as to not understand that most that my father caught and brought in for simple questioning where then taken by my grandfather, dragged into a city hanging or burning that was watched avidly like a form of sick entertainment. The people burned where nothing but petty thieves or men walking home from brothels. They had naught to do with anything and had simply been in the wrong place as the wrong time.

These hangings and burnings brought attention to the fact that it seemed my father was leading a successful hunt… ridding the streets of London from the dark and was therefore paid appropriately.

This all brings me back to the banging on my door and the chill that ran down my spine to think of what would bring such an awakening. I rolled to the edge of my bed and stood, flinching as the cold wood of the floor met my skin. I straightened the soft white sleeping gown that hung from my shoulders and pulled my embroidered dressing gown on, one that my father had bought me in France. I had hated it when he went away and he said when he saw it in the store he thought it would ease my suffering of being parted from him. It hadn't, but it was still a beautiful present.

Once my body was covered with the soft fabric I pulled open my bedroom door and walked swiftly down the art clad hallways to the large staircase, at which point I halted on the top step, gripping the banister. I had a clear view of the doorway where the housekeeper was bustling out from the servant's quarters in her own dressing gown holding a lamp before her, muttering angrily about the hour. The door was still vibrating erratically from somebody's fist, a mirror to my heart.

My father had left once I was asleep to follow a lead with his men. He had left reluctantly after my pleading for him to stay, it was so dangerous, I thought again to what my life would be reduced to without him. A young girl without either of her parents with one of the largest inheritance's in London would make me easy prey, but worst of all, I would have lost the most precious person in my life. The very thought of losing my father sent a shiver down my spine.

Glancing to the clock I noticed it was four in the morning near enough. Nobody would be up at this hour without purpose, never mind breaking down the door. It was a Sunday, mass didn't start until eight. I held my breath as the door swung open to reveal my father's right hand man, Harland.

At first I felt relieved, Harland was a close family friend whom I loved dearly, he eased my mother's passing for my father with his friendship greatly. I doubted my father would ever have been able to look at me again without Harland's help but then I thought of the only reason he would be waking up the house at this ungodly hour. I stiffened immediately, my nails digging into the oak banister beneath my fingertips.

He walked on into the house without invitation and waited for our housekeeper Mrs. Grayson to close the door behind him. Once it was securely locked he began.

"I need you to wake up Miss. Cullen immediately." he demanded.

This was not making me feel any easier about the situation.

Mrs. Grayson shook her head vehemently, "Her father did not want her waking until seven o'clock for morning mass at the Cathedral."

Harland shook his hand in her face as if to push the words away, "She needs to know what has happened, Mrs. Grayson, Carlisle was attacked by one of the creatures and has gone missing!"

I let out what sounded like half a cry and half a gasp and was racing as fast as humanly possible down the stairs to where Harland and Mrs. Grayson where standing watching me apprehensively.

I ran straight to face Harland, feeling tears stain my rosy cheeks, "When Harland?" I breathed.

"Not an hour ago…" he said sadly.

I felt my breathing hitch, "Where?" I demanded.

"I.. I…" Harland stuttered.

"Where?" I cried.

Harland's eyes widened, "Down by Stone Leigh Place just off the market street on Abbot's way."

I didn't wait a moment longer. I pulled on my closest set of shoes, my riding boots which were by the door waiting to be sent out to be cleaned, and found myself running into the streets, Harland in step.

I vaguely heard Mrs. Grayson's loud protests but I set off at a sprint, "Isabella, what in god's name do you think you're doing, your father would have a heart attack if he knew you were out here!" Harland called behind me.

All I could do was cry and in a futile attempt, try to keep my breathing steady. I knew Harland was about to intercept me and thanked the lord inwardly that I was at my shortcut. It was a tiny gap between two houses used by the boys who cleaned the chimney's to pass through to houses quicker. I had just managed to fit through when I was eight years old and I hiding from Mrs. Grayson, I could only hope my small frame would allow me to squeeze through. I also remembered that this gap was used by servants and that it truly was a god send. It would get me to my father quicker and serve as a hiding place if I needed one to get Harland off my tail.

I slid sideways into the gap and began to shimmy towards the opposite side which would lead straight out onto Abbot's way… I was _so_ close to my father now.

"Isabella… stop!" I heard Harland below down the small passage, I turned my head briefly to see that he had realized he couldn't fit but he continued to in a futile attempt, hand outstretched towards me in desperation.

"I have to get to my father!" I sobbed continuing my shimmying movement.

He sighed, "I will meet you on the other side, please Isabella, do not come out until I am there, I beg of you." I didn't reply but watched as he disappeared from view. He was gone.

I came to the edge and pushed my body hard through the small gap making me fall out with a jolt; I hopped to my feet and looked around desperately.

"Father?" I called out onto the dark and empty street, dim street lights making small glows throughout the area.

"Father!" I cried, he was nowhere to be seen.

I leant back onto the brick house behind me and cried mercilessly, he wasn't here. I had lost him, the one relative I had left… aside from my grandfather. I knew my life would be doomed if I was left under his instruction. He had been telling father for years that he knew of appropriate suitors.

"Well, what a darling little thing you are…" My head snapped around to the voice, "but I regret to inform you that you should not be wandering the streets at night." The cool melodic voice spoke from beside me.

I jerked upright and looked to the voice; I took a large frightened step backwards from what I saw. Three inhumanly, red eyed… humans? Two males and one female stared back at me in fascination.

"Wouldn't she make a charming little addition." the clear leader of the three spoke, he slowly stretched out a hand and I, being rooted in my spot, felt his hard cool fingers brush along my left cheekbone.

"Ahh yes, she would be a beautiful one…" he smiled as if he had found a hundred sterling pounds sitting on the pavement without a claim.

"Do you know where my father is?" I cried in a stutter of fright.

He shook his head and moved his hand down to mine grasping it, not loosening it even as I tried to pull away, "I am afraid not, my darling."

"I need to go and find him." I said pulling at my hand more violently now, he didn't seem to realize, "Please let go, I need to find him, he's hurt." I pleaded.

The woman and other man standing behind my captor both grinned widely at me and I froze in terror. The male holding me pulled me closer, breathing deeply, ignoring my clear protest. He slipped one hand over my mouth and the other placed it on the small of my back pulling me close.

"This is my gift to you Isabella," he whispered against my face before pushing my head back slightly and placing his lips to my throat, I cried out in confusion, was it my virtue he was seeking? I felt the sharp pain of tearing flesh upon my neck where his teeth sank in and I screamed.

Nothing else mattered then but the urge to escape but I couldn't, the pain so intense.

He pulled away leaving a painful sting and lifted me gently into his arms, before long all I knew was pain, pain and darkness.

**Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I am looking for a beta but they have to be qualified, good grammar, sentence structure – mine sucks so if anybody would like to help I would be very grateful. Oh, and a good imagination and sense of humor couldn't hurt either! If anybody fancies please email me! Good/Bad, Interesting/Boring let me know.**


	2. EDWARD MASEN

**Author's Note: Here's chapter two, revamped – did you like my little word play? I would just like to shout out a thank you to everybody who has actually returned to this story after so long. You guys rock and your support is unbelievable! Enjoy the next chapter!**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of Stephanie Meyers Saga_

**EDWARD MASEN**

_**Isabella POV**_

My life, in a nutshell after that fateful day has been spent looking, looking for my father. How do I know if he is even alive you may ask? Four words, the only four words I remember throughout the duration of my transformation, spoken in that melodic Italian accent, it spoke to me the words 'he is alive, Isabella'. Maybe I was crazy but I believed him, I couldn't face any other alternative. He was alive, I was sure of it.

Throughout the duration of my change all I knew was pain, pain was embedded in everything I knew. It was my world and my world was pain. My eyes burned, my heart seared, the veins under the tips of my skin scorched like the fiery pits of hell like my skin was splitting as somebody ripped me limb from limb. And then, just as quickly, it was over. The pain didn't subside, one minute I was gasping, praying for God to take me and the next I felt a comfort in my skin that I had never felt before.

I realized that I was alone pretty quickly when I could comprehend what had happened to me and my brain began to process thoughts once more. However I also had to come to terms with the knowledge that it hadn't all been some terrible dream. I was never again going to wake in my soft canopied bed, I was never going to walk down the stairs to find my father, sitting at the table with his bread and jam… the world I knew was over, it was not a nightmare; it was the cold hard bite of reality.

I woke up in the outskirts of London in a field, covered in mud where I had been rolling around in pain. I was still dressed in my dressing gown and riding boots, my once clean white gown soiled in grass stains and other such unpleasantness. I walked to a small stream and taking a careful glance around and pulled the gown from my body, rinsing it in the stream with extra care after the first two rips. Once somewhat clean I dragged the wet garment back over my head, surprised at how the cold did not bother me.

I was surprised that I did not feel tired or sore considering the hell I had only recently recovered from. I was expecting another current of that never ending, unbearable pain to floor to return at any moment, but it never did. So in the darkness of the night I ran back to the only place I knew, home. I ran so quickly that I had to continue to run and slide to a halt in shock; over and over again I repeated the movement until I found myself on deserted cobbled streets. I walked down the streets and down to my house, hoping beyond anything in me that my father had returned.

I had come to terms with the fact that I wasn't the most graceful girl in London many years ago. Many a time had I tripped over my skirt or dropped my glass, I was most certainly the definition of the word clumsy. Even on a flat, empty, even surface I couldn't seem to avoid scraped knees and bruised arms and yet now, as I danced up the steps that led to my door I found myself the very being of grace.

I shook it off and put my thoughts in order. I needed to see my father, to feel his embrace and his comforting words. I knew everything would be okay if I could only find him. It was well into the night at this point and luckily the streets were deserted so I could knock on the door without interruption. As I removed my hand from each knock I noticed the deep hand marks that where left behind in the door, my knuckles imprinted into the brass and wood. My father would not be happy about that, he had imported the doors in from Italy. And how did I do that anyway, I glanced at my thin, fragile looking hands in confusion. I had no upper body strength aside from that to hold onto the bridle on my horse. I shook my head and reminded myself why I was here. I would think about those things later, I had more pressing matters at the present time.

I knocked more carefully this time and waiting, again I received no answer. I did the only thing I could think of and gently pushed at the lock as quickly as possible and pushed against the door, the door's golden clasp snapped easily and the door gave way, allowing me to slip through into the darkened reception. I looked around confused. The whole house was in darkness and there was no sign of any of the servants or the house keeper. They never left the house, not ever. I searched all of their chambers and all of their belongings had been cleared out and their doors locked. It was strange; they were under strict orders to never leave me alone in the house, how long had I been gone?

As I walked around I also noted that all of the vases had been emptied of their flowers, flowers that I had picked fresh only…days ago with my father, they had not been near wilting, why had they been removed? I pulled off my muddy shoes as quickly as possible, tearing the leather in my swiftness and ran up the homes large staircase and into my father's study. I found it empty like all of the other rooms, boxes half filled with his books scattered messily around the room. I hurried down to his bedroom and found it in much the same state. The house was well and truly empty, it was clear my father had not returned.

I ran into my room ready to get changed, determined to find answers. I was going to go and find Harland at his home and question him… and then I caught sight of myself in my mirror. I cried out in horror… I hadn't realized but… I was so pale… so beautiful… with haunting red eyes, I was terrifying. Realization hit me, I was one of them, one of hells creatures.

It didn't take long for me to decide what I was going to do from that point; I had heard what my father had spoken of in what he thought he knew about these creatures. They travelled fast and moved around a lot. If my father was with them, he would have moved quickly too.

I inhaled, shocked when I realized that I hadn't been doing so beforehand, I had not been breathing, defying the laws that God placed upon this earth. I could smell him, everywhere. I felt my eyes burn in their sockets but there were no tears, not even the slightest signs of moisture but my eyes did not feel irritated or dry. I inhaled again, my father's scent filling my nose and I immediately knew that that was the smell that I was going to have to follow. I was going to follow the comforting scent that surrounded me in every room of this house and I would not stop, ever, until I found him.

Before I left I decided that I would make use of my homes facilities and pulled my clothing off and took a quick bath, the first bath I had ever had to make for myself in my life. After I was clean I pulled one of my dresses over my head which had been packed into my wardrobe. It was a beautiful dress but I hoped it would allow me to blend in with the crowds. I pulled out a bag, in which I placed all of the money from my father's safe, some food from the pantry which would save for a while despite the rancid smell I found myself inhaling and some spare clothes. I also remembered in my haste to pack my father's favorite book, my father's pillowcase for the scent and finally, my mother's wedding and engagement rings which I ran onto a gold chain and secured safely around my neck.

With one last look at my childhood home, the places in which the only memories of my mother lived and turned, running quickly down the stairs before I lost my nerve. I was unsurprised by that point that I did not fall down. I grasped at a thick fur lined cloak, pulling up the hood in a half-hearted attempt to cover my blood red eyes and fled. I ran away from my house, my comfort zone, my memories, all in the hope of finding my father.

That night had taken place near enough two centuries ago and I was still searching for my father. It seemed as though tracking was not my stronger skill as this monster as I had become. In fact, I was dreadful at it but I was getting closer every time, and even if only by a millimeter, I was never going to give in, I was never going to let go.

In the year of nineteen eighteen I found myself in Chicago; I had picked up the scent passing through northern Illinois, crossing back over the boundaries between Canada and the America's. I had followed the scent deep into the heart of the city which was currently under attack from the Spanish Influenza. I had realized many years previously that I was unable to contract these diseases and wandered through the sick without fear. I was convinced that I would find him this time; he scent was the strongest I had ever found in a single place before. I was itching to see his comforting face once more and struggled to keep my human pace.

The scent had led me to a hospital which was overflowing with the epidemic and it all made sense. Of course I would find my father in a hospital; he was a doctor, devoted to his pledge to help people. He would not have turned away from this pledge because he had been attacked. He would have continued to save people's lives as a doctor, it was who he was, a healer. He had to be here, I didn't think I could take another disappointment. There has been too many already.

I entered the hospital and nobody paused to ask who I was, nobody had the time with the hospital being so under staffed. People where running down the echoing corridors, people collapsing or screaming and crying for help, it was mayhem. I found the scent amongst the many others and followed my lead deep into the hospital. I noted as I walked that less and less nurses occupied these hallways and the dead lay amongst the living with no hope of being removed. The patient's health in these rooms seemed to be much worse than those in the front wards. I followed my father's scent into a room crammed full of beds filled with, to my horror, dead humans with pale faces and glassy eyes, some beds with two or three crammed in on top of each other.

I could only hear three heartbeats in the room and they all looked beyond any help. I noticed with horror that they must have been left here, out of the way, to die. I felt sick at the very thought of being abandoned to die amongst the already dead. The panic that these people must have been feeling, knowing that nobody cared, nobody was coming to save them.

I followed my father's scent to the other end of the room, where it was strongest between two beds. It was an older woman and a young boy, both where in fresh sheets, had still cool clothes sitting upon their foreheads and lay upon their backs. The boy had the strongest heartbeat in the room but it was still labored, the beat comforted me and I found myself perching on the bed's edge. The boy, or rather man looked as though he was the same age as me when I had been changed, possibly a little older and he was, for lack of another more suitable word, beautiful. Even in his pale, sweaty, bedridden state he was beautiful. His eyes where roving underneath his eyelids, searching in the darkness for some way to survive this horrible disease.

I looked to his right, following his hand to see it clasped strongly, knuckles white, to the weakest heartbeat in the room. The hand belonged to a woman who had a likeness to him and I noticed with a jolt that she was watching me weakly through her dimming eyes, her chest heaving her last breaths.

"Hello." I said softly, wishing I could ease her pain.

She gave a tiny smile which could only have been noticed from my perfect eyesight, "Hello Dear, who are you?" she murmured to me in a distressed throat, rough with infection.

"I'm just visiting." I replied simply, to my surprise she did not push for more information, "Is this your son?" I looked back to the bronze haired angel in the bed next to hers.

She nodded feebly and a tear slipped down onto the flat pillow her head rested upon, I wiped it away gently.

"Don't cry." I whispered, distressed by the agony she was clearly in.

She blinked a few times, her eyes loosing focusing before channeling back to me, "What is your name, sweet one?"

"Isabella." she smiled at this.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl," I looked down and knew I would be blushing if I could.

I nodded and then looked back up to her, "You have a beautiful son."

She nodded, "I do, my Edward… he doesn't deserve to die, he's such a beautiful person… he hasn't even had the chance to really _live_."

I felt a strange surge of sadness fall over me as I looked over to the man in the bed once more.

"Can you save him?" she asked hopefully.

I shook my head sadly, "I'm so sorry, but believe me, you and your son are going on to a better place. I know in my heart that there is no need to be frightened for him. I am sure that your Edward is a beautiful person you claim he is, inside and out, and he will have earned his place in heaven." I said seriously, my grandfather's profession had worn off on me.

"But this is not Edward's time, he has a life to live, he has to finish his studies He needs to marry a pretty girl like you and make a family for himself" she sobbed weakly.

I nodded, "I will look after him for a little while, he will be fine, don not fret."

She smiled back and began fumbling with her fingers, lifting her clasped hand to reveal a wedding and engagement ring.

I looked at her confused, "Would you like me to give them to Edward?"

She shook her head, "No, I want you to have them. I do not want the love that these rings symbolize to be forgotten. I want you to find that love." She implored, pressing them into my palm.

"Thank you, I'm truly honored." I slipped them onto the ring fingers on my right hand, admiring there beauty. I looked up to say more when I realized, her heartbeat… it was gone. I looked down and knew I would have had tears painting my cheeks if it had still been possible.

I gently closed the woman's glassy eyes and turned to the boy in the bed upon which I was perched and gasped when I saw his eyes upon me, his beautiful emerald green eyes. I was taken aback by their clarity and beauty.

"Hello Edward." I smiled as brightly as possible, trying to help him through his last moments without the grief of knowing his mother's death.

He smiled weakly back, "You know my name?"

"Your mother," I replied softly.

He nodded, "Who are you?"

"My names Isabella and you are Edward…"

"Edward Masen."

"How are you feeling?" I pressed my palm to his feverish forehead and he sighed letting out a small laugh which ended in a cough, "I suppose that's a bit obvious." I replied to myself.

He began to slowly close his eyes and I swiftly placed my other cool hand softly against his heated cheek, "Don't, please don't close your eyes… they're so beautiful." I didn't know why I was sharing this with the poor boy on his deathbed but I felt he needed to know. I felt attached despite us only ever sharing such a small conversation. I hated to see him lying here dying. If I had the evil within me I would have changed him into one of us, but I couldn't, he deserved heaven, somewhere I could never follow.

I gently moved my thumb against his cheekbones and looked down, he sighed contently "Isabella," and when I looked up his eyes were closed.

"Edward?" I asked my stomach dropping. I listened and felt relieved to hear his heart was still beating, but his body could no longer keep him conscious.

With a sigh I faced the reality, my father wasn't here. It was time for me to continue searching. I stood gently as not to disturb him and lent over the angel's unconscious form, taking in his beautiful features.

"Goodbye Edward Masen, know you are going to a better place." I whispered against his lips before letting mine meet his for the shortest of moments, quickly pulling away.

I couldn't help but smile bitterly. My first kiss was with an unconscious dying man who would never love me, who wouldn't live long enough to even know me. But I knew in my heart that I would never regret, not for the rest of my damned life

I made for the exit, taking one last look at Edward and then fleeing. I looked around the whole area for a few hours but, unable to find my father and unable to find a fresh trail, I made for the borders of the town. I was surprised to find that for the first time in two hundred year I did not break down into body wracking sobs. I felt my heart rip just that little bit more from the loneliness, but I couldn't scream or cry this time, because that day was the day I had met Edward Masen.

**Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think!**


	3. OTHERS OF MY KIND

**Author's Note: I would like to thank everybody who reviewed the last chapter; the support is really appreciated, especially after it's been so long since I first started this story. For the next five days you should be getting updates every other day so look out **

_I do not own Twilight or any of Stephanie Meyers Saga_

**OTHERS OF MY KIND**

**ISABELLA POV**

Nineteen thirty six - I had been skirting around the southern edge of California when I finally found my next lead. It has been so long it took a minute for my mind to compute the scent. After I had left Edward Masen on his deathbed in Chicago my vigor had been renewed to my search. I did not want to be alone anymore, speaking to people only when necessary, moving from place to place out the outskirts of society, watching people fall in and out of love, birthday celebrations, Christmas. I could not bear it any longer. I searched frantically like I was once again back in that field in England, searching like we had only been apart for a mere handful of days, not centuries. Each year leads for his scent became harder and harder to find, it had been over a year since I had caught a fresh trail and I had decided to settle down for a year. I had found a derelict cottage, dropped down onto the dirty and began to wait. All I did the whole year was lie on a bed, unmoving and unthinking except from when the burning of my throat became too severe and I was forced to hunt.

It was by far the worst year of my life, but as New Year rolled around and nineteen thirty six rolled in I had caught an unusual scent on the wind. It took me a while to realize that out of the three scents, two where other vampires, as I had never come across others I did not realize what the strange smell was until my instincts warned me like an alarm system built into my chest. I could spend only seconds processing the knowledge before the recognition hit. The third scent was that of my father, my sense of smell finely tuned to his scent by now. I sat up from the dirty mattress which my face was pressed against and sniffed the air. The pair of vampires who I had never met had a scent which blew in from the north and the other, the one I dreamed of every minute of every day was to the east. It took only seconds to realize that this was the direction which the other two scents, the other two vampires seemed to be travelling towards, or rather following.

Before that day I had never met any other vampire upon the earth, aside, I remembered bitterly, from the three which had damned me to this living hell. I didn't know how many of my kind inhabited this earth. I had never felt the evil urges that seemed to consume those who attacked me, at heart I was still a seventeen year old girl looking for her father. I was still a girl who shied away from the dark from fright, scared at every turn that the dark beings lurking through the shadows of the night would find me again. It took me a while to realize when I was first changed that I was now one of those dark creatures to all of the human's left on the earth, I was the enemy now. I was the reason they locked their doors and burned candles through the night to light dark corners.

I contemplated for days as I traveled towards my father's scent on whether or not I should intercept the others of my kind. They were traveling at the same pace as I was, a human gait, and in exactly the same direction. However if my previous meetings where any indication of how these vampires would act I knew to steer well clear. I watched them carefully for days, irritated by the pace that they had set, whenever I paused in my step they did too, whenever I ran for a mile, the hurried along to keep up and soon I realized that their heading had not faltered. I decided that I not only _should_ intercept them, I wanted to. I wanted to know why they were following my father and if they had good or bad intentions.

The moment I stopped my slow walk and decided that I was going to face them they unsurprisingly halted as well. Their scent stayed in a pin pointed spot and didn't move at all, even as I took ten paces towards them. It was almost as if they had been waiting for me to decide I was going to find them, like they knew I was coming now and decided to wait so I would find it was easier to find them. With every step I took in their direction the scent became stronger. They had stopped the very moment I had changed my heading, I felt more and more suspicious with every step in their direction.

I made my way towards them for about a day and a half at human pace; I did not like to move any faster than a human. In every way I could I acted like a human, and I liked to _be_ human. During this walk I realized I was heading further and further away from civilization. I was now in the middle of deserted wilderness, no one to know if they hurt or killed me, I didn't even know what others of my kind where like. They could all be violent killers with no morals or sense of right or wrong, that seemed to be the case in my previous experiences.

I felt more and more uneasy as the hours ticked by and when I finally encountered a thick forest wall from which their scent was permeating, my resolve weakened to the point where I wanted to turn and run. They were settled not fifteen hundred meters away and their scent pointed me straight into the thick, dark overgrowth. I contemplated how fast a runner I was. I would be able to get out of there if need be, but I didn't know who was in there and how fast_ they_ were, what if I wasn't even a normal vampire, what if I was defective or particularly slow? I had no idea.

I needed to go in there though; they must have been searching for my father as well, and I couldn't let them continue if they had bad intentions. I needed to find them and learn what they were doing, what their plans where. I did decide that I wouldn't tell them where I was heading though, they were hell's creatures and my grandfather has always told me that they were deceitful beings. I decided that I would simply find out where they were heading and then get out of there as quickly as possible, using my unusual speed on this one occasion in an attempt to reach him first and warn him.

I nodded into the air, still standing on the precipice of the forest, trying to reassure myself as if in reassurance and with one gulp of unnecessary oxygen I took my first steps in. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I finally came across the pair. I stood behind the bushes and watched the scene before me upon reaching the small clearing in which they inhabited.

There were two little tents in the center of a small clearing; to the left of them a large pile of fur had collected itself and with a jolt I realized that they had been drinking the blood of animals, just like I did when forced. I was reassured ever so slightly by this, if they did not drink the blood of humans you would think that they had some kind of moral compass within. Then I realized, maybe they did not want to cart humans around with them this deep into the wilderness… no, I knew that with our speed it would not be too much of an inconvenience to run to the nearest town. I had always thought that all other vampires drank the blood of humans, but knowing that the traveling pair before my eyes didn't, well, it made me feel a lot more positive that was for sure. I did notice, uncomfortably, the amount of fur in the pile; they had certainly drunk their fill.

I thought that I would have been the only one of my kind to feel like it was evil to take human lives. I had expected other vampires to be evil creatures from hell, but if these vampires felt the same I did towards the murder of innocents, maybe I had judged too soon. I realized that if I could have a moral system, a drop of humanity within me whilst being a vampire the same could be said for any other.

I stood silently for a while and became frustrated when they did not return to their encampment. The camp looked like it was anticipating the arrival of its inhabitants, it had not been abandoned, and if they had been waiting for me, why leave? A shirt was hung over the side of a branch neatly, a black leather back pack sat at the mouth of the large tent that they had erected. They wouldn't just abandon their belongings surely. Thankfully, just as I was about to turn and leave, worrying about losing my father's scent by this side step in my search I heard their falling footsteps coming closer. They walked at a slow casual pace and I stood unmoving, not breathing hidden out of sight, watching the pair as they came into view and moved about the camp.

One was a girl, short, thin with chin length jet black hair; she sported small delicate features which matched her twig like frame. She looked like a fairy from a book my father had bought me for my thirteenth birthday. The other, a male, sported stylishly grown blonde hair and had shocking blood red eyes unlike the girl who had golden like my own, he was more predatorial in his movements, unfocused and strained.

At first, for a long while, they simply sat down and looked at each other, gazing into one and others eyes. It was a moment that made me feel uneasy, like I was watching in on an intensely private moment. Then they moved towards each other and shared a short and tender kiss, my eyes caught the color of the male's eyes again, glowing in the fire light and I thought about what those blood red eyes reflected, the inhumane hellish killing of innocent humans.

I was immediately back on high alert, I felt uneasy now standing so close to a killer. I took an uneasy, silent step backwards, wanting to get away from the pair unnoticed. But then I would look at the female and her clear love of the male and saw only a deep seated humanity within the pair. I stood, weighing in my mind as to whether the information about my father was truly worth this danger when the males head snapped up sending a shock down my spine, his blood red eyes meeting mine in the shadows with skilled precision. I stumbled backwards and prepared myself to run for my life when I felt thin arms wrap around me and squeeze, I realized with a shock that the female was embracing me.

"She's here Jasper! I told you we would meet another of us on the way!" she sang, helping me up from my awkward position on the floor, her hands in mine as she pulled me smoothly to my feet.

So she had known I was coming and had waited for me to show, "Who are you?" I demanded my voice filled with my suspicion.

"Oh, I'm Alice and this is my friend Jasper." she said slowly, pondering whether or not to introduce her companion as her betrothed or husband no doubt.

I brushed the twigs and leaves from my back and shoulders slowly, never letting my eyes fall as I followed her into the clearing where Jasper was sitting on a large fallen tree branch calmly. He kept a distance of a few meters between us at all times but threw me an easy smile, despite my best efforts I found myself unable to keep my face straight and smiled tentatively back. When the female has embraced me it had been the first touch of affection I had ever felt in this life.

"You did say that Alice." he beamed at his female companion, "and to what do we owe the pleasure?" he asked, his southern twang apparent in his smooth soft voice.

I cut short the pleasantries, "Where are you going?" I demanded, my voice only quivering on the last syllable.

Alice sat down next to Jasper and he slung his arm around her casually. I felt a pang of sadness and jealousy towards their companionship, what I would do to have a single friend in this lonely world, "We are looking for our future family." He replied simply.

I sighed, well that wasn't my father. "Who are they?" I continued, trying to poke for more information, I had to make the little detour I had taken at least a little purposeful.

She shrugged, "I don't know any of their names yet, I just know that they are towards the east, which is why we are heading in this direction. I thought maybe you were heading in the same direction as well, which was why we have been waiting for you." She looked at my in honest hope.

I looked back at her curiously and she continued, "We are looking for a family of two males and a female, another male will join us shortly as well. We want to join and live with them as a part of their coven as they have much more civilized ways than others of our kind."

I hadn't thought that what they had been doing would be so innocent. "Oh…" I sighed. This all brought up the harsh reality, the truth of my dire situation. I still had not found my father.

She smiled at me confidently, "But you should come as well, I'm sure they would accept you."

I shook my head sullenly, "I already have a father, I just need to find him. I've been trying to track him down for over a century now. I couldn't pretend by filling the gap that he left with another, and I know he would never do that to me."

Jasper snorted but not in a nastily, "Not the best tracker then?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little, "I quite clearly have no sense of direction." My laugh bordered on the edge of hysterical.

Alice threw me a weak, concerned smile, "You lost your father over a century ago, have you been looking ever since?"

"Every day," I said sorrowfully. Speaking about it was making me feel emotionally exhausted; I let my shoulders slump.

She placed her small hand above mine on the wooden log I sank down to, making me flinch at her sudden close proximity. I was unused to feeling somebody else's touch but for walking down a busy market street when people would accidentally bump into me, their shoulders colliding with my own, "I am so sorry," she spoke softly, her eyes sincere.

I nodded bitterly, "So am I." This girl, Alice, was easy to like. "I know he will be out there looking for me as well though, I know he would not forget about me and I refuse to forget about him… I can't…"

Everybody was silent for a few moments until Alice spoke once more, "Have you hunted? Your eyes look much too dark; feel free to stay with us for a while."

I shook my head, hunting was the one thing that I knew was sent straight from the devil to me, to torture and test me. The one way I knew for sure that this was hell and that I was in it was the painful burning in my throat.

Being here with these other vampires, it brought to harsh reality that I couldn't trust them even if I wanted to anyway. These people must have done something awful to be turned away from heaven and dammed to this eternal life, just like I must have. I just didn't know what I had done wrong, I often wondered if it was the devil keeping me away from my father. Sending me pretend little bursts of hope when I smelt his oh so comforting scent when he actually wasn't ever there. God hadn't accepted my soul and now I had to wander the earth as some kind of abomination, some form of monster… alone forever.

We sat in silence once more until a thought occurred to me, "How did you know I was coming?"

Alice smiled excitedly, "I can see possible futures, it's my gift."

I shuddered and she let her smile fade, "Do you have a gift?"

I looked to my hands which I was rubbing against my leg in nervousness, "I don't… I… I don't use it, whatever it is, it will just make my whole existence more of a sin. If I don't use it god may find it easier to forgive me." I said quietly looking to the ground still.

I abruptly stood up, wiping my hands of the forest floor and debris which had stuck damply to it. "It was nice to meet you but I really must be going, good luck on finding your destination." I spoke quickly already backing away.

Alice smiled knowingly, "Don't worry I know we're going to get there." She said this whilst tapping her temple gently.

I smiled in return, "I feel you will have a victory in your search unlike me." I sighed, "Goodbye." I said in final farewell before quietly walking swiftly to the edge of the clearing, not waiting for their reply. When finally out of their sight I broke into a run, a vampire run, something I rarely did and when finally out of hearing I slid to a stop and fell to the ground staring ahead blankly.

Even Alice and Jasper in their hell had found each other, another to love and care for, and yet I was still alone, I was always alone. With that thought I allowed the sobs that I had been attempting to hold in for some time take over me. I leant over and closed my eyes and hoped the world would swallow me silently, praying for god to accept me, begging.

**Author's Note: I know it is all very doom and gloom at the moment but I have to set up the story now don't I? **


	4. UPGRADE ME

**Thanks for the reviews in the last chapter, you ladies all make me smile with your ideas, I thought about putting in another chapter before the Cullen's but you've all be waiting so patiently… so, it's Cullen time.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight._

**UPGRADE ME**

I knew that my kind did not need to breathe, the many occasions I had held my breath in the past attested to that. Oxygen was as inconsequential to my existence as food or water, but I could never remember a time where I could not breath, where I could not physically open my mouth and inhale the cool air around me.

Not a day ago I had been passing through the border from Canada to Washington when I came across the strongest scent I had ever managed to inhale. I has eagerly followed it from Canada right into a little, inconsequential town called Forks, never had a place been so foolishly named and yet this seemed to be where my father lived, his scent too strong for a short passing through. No, his scent was _everywhere_, in the shops, the hospitals, the woods. I followed the most concentrated smell into thick wooded paths on the outskirts of town, walking until I came across a large clearing, completely shaded by huge old oaks whose branches stretched over in a magnificent canopy The trees sat in two straight lines, as if planted a century ago, leading up to a beautiful three story house. I walked up the immaculate lawn, smiling as the small sparkles of midday sun pushed stubbornly through the tree leaves making pretty patterns and made up the steps with haste, my father's scent leading me right up to the front door. There was no concentrated pattern from that point forward; he had been all over this house and all around the grounds.

I noted how the house fit perfectly within my father's taste, the large all seeing windows, the cream colours which matched that of our London home, the huge dark wooded front door, the very same which I had made dents in so many years before. I felt as though he would have chosen all of these features with only me in mind, it had the hints of a feminine touch like he had thought of me with every lick of paint. The slates of the roof where a dark grey which looked almost black contrasting sharply against the houses neutral coloring beneath, I recognized them with a start. It had a beautiful wrap-around porch which held a bench swing, flower pots and hanging baskets.

I took a few slow steps forwards and gently turned the handle on the door but it didn't budge, I realized with irritation that it was locked. I came to a quick decision, snapping the lock with a quick jolt, knowing that my father would forgive me for breaking locks now so long as he was reunited with me once more. He would probably be coming back sometime soon, from the concentration of his scent it was clear that he was here regularly. I let the first real smile in years spread across my lips and pushed the ancient oak door smoothly open, taking a tentative step forwards, allowing the door to swing gently closed behind me.

I took a step onto the plush cream carpet and kicked off my shoes, grinning at the way I had immediately reverted back into what I used to do in my old home in London. Just the knowledge that this was my father's home converted me back into daughter of Carlisle, not a lost dreamer. Bitterly I remembered how, in the past, the housekeeper would groan and pick them up mumbling that I needed to start looking after my possessions, my father would walk down from the study and kiss me gently on the forehead, giving me a gentle scolding look. He would always ask me how my day had been and roll his eyes at my bag and shoes strewn across the floor by the door, never having the heart to scold me to tears like my friends parents.

I sighed, dropped my bag, and took another few steps into the large room before me. The walls where painted in a neutral cream colour the fluffy carpet to match. I could tell that the now large room had previously been lots of smaller rooms from the strange and complicated shape. It had been converted into one large open plan space with large windows on the face of the wall farthest from where I was standing. Scattered artfully around the room where large comfy couches, mostly centered towards an incredibly large television which was attached to the wall, positioning as if sitting on top of a marble fireplace. I had hardly ever watched television, only ever in passing windows, but the idea did amaze me, moving pictures in a box, pictures of humans all shining from a sheet of glass.

I looked to my left, past a large elegant staircase that led up to the next floor and past a corridor that seemed to lead to a dining room. Through the dining room I could glimpse a huge kitchen and to the left hand corner of the room a large grand piano sat on a slightly raised level, two steps running up to the shiny ivory keys. I walked over and let my fingers swish across the ivory making a light scale, the music floating around the room before echoing into nothingness, it was kept perfectly in tune. It had been so long since I had played but I remembered how I used to be quite adept.

I turned back around, falling lightly onto the black leather piano stool as I looked across the room, noticing that there were somewhat memorable pictures on the walls as if from a dream or a a distant memory. Then it hit me, I_ had_ seen some of these pictures before, in my old home.

I smiled, my father still had memories from his old life surrounding him, and maybe he was out there right now, searching for me. I felt excitement building in the pit of my stomach; I would be waiting here to surprise him the very moment he got back. I could see how it would all take place in my mind perfectly. I felt my the breaks in my heart fit together ever so slightly at the thought and stood, deciding to take a look around my father's new base camp. I approached the wide staircase and climbed up to the second level of the house.

The first room I started in was where his scent radiated from most strongly. I walked down the clean hallways and stopped at the second door on the right. The door had no signal as to what was held within, so I pushed it gently open and walked in, surprised to find a study instead of a bedroom.

I could tell this room was my father's from the layout; it was almost identical to the layout of his study in the London house, with the exception of a few additions. I moved further into the room to see the large window which had been previously hidden by the bookcase. There was a large ornate desk which held some open books and a couple of folders, a fancy looking computer at its side, a desk chair in front of it. I walked around the desk and sat down on my father's leather desk chair, looking at the screen before me. I nudged the mouse and the screen lit up, removing the computer from standby, or at least I think it did. It immediately asked for password.

I looked around the room and took in the walls covered in bookshelves packed full of books, one in particular caught my keen eyes. In the corner looking so very worn, much more worn than the last time I had seen it, was my favorite book, the book that I had not been able to find on my visit back home shortly after my change into one of the creature I was today. I had read it hundreds of times. I had never really put it down when it was in my possession, Sir Launfal, the beautiful romance of a damsel in distress being saved by a chivalrous knight who comes to her rescue.

I pulled it out of its slot on the shelf and stared at it in awe, my father must have turned these pages many times for it to become so worn. I placed it softly down on his desk after placing it gently to my lips and turned back to his computer, looking at the keyboard which held tiny squares with letters printed upon them. I pressed one gently, the 'I' key, and a little back dot appeared in a box on the screen, I shrugged and continued to spell my name and then waited but nothing happened.

I moved the mouse gently and the little arrow on the screen moved, I put one to the other in my mind and placed it gently over the 'accept' panel on the monitor, clicking down on the metal pod carefully. To my surprise a small loading sign appeared before pictures of London came up in the background. I beamed; glad he had not forgotten his origins after all this time.

I pushed up from the desk and made out of the door towards the next room on the corridor. I entered a room painted a deep red colour. It had silk matching curtains draped across the windows, bed spreads and a plush cream carpet. I saw a walk in closet full to the brim will women's clothing and shoes scattered untidily across the floor. The room also held an en suite bathroom filled with makeup, candles, perfume and a hamper. I walked back into the bedroom and stopped in my tracks, my eyes glued to the bedside table.

I approached it slowly and picked a silver picture frame up into my hands, staring at the picture within. It was of a beautiful blonde haired woman in a beautiful puffy white wedding dress with a long train, she was kissing a muscle built young man with dark curls and dimples. He was kissing her with just as much passion back, his hands holding her close to his tux clad body. They stood under a blossom tree, the twilight sun descending down into a beautiful tranquil lake.

_My father shared his house with others of our kind?_ Their pale skin and golden eyes gave them away, as well as the scent that I only that moment noticed within the house.

Curious now I continued my search, moving onto the next room in the corridor. It was another bedroom with cream and green coloring. It had a large walk in closet to match the one in the red bedroom and one wall was completely covered in a cork material, magazine cuttings, dress designs and such pinned all over it. This room also had an en suite bathroom and although the room had a clear feminine touch it clearly belonged to both a man and a woman, the aftershave and shirts giving them away.

I didn't stop to look at the pictures in this room but carried on searching the rooms until I ended up back downstairs in the living room, focusing now on pictures that might give my father's current condition away. I walked up to the wall next to the large window and piano, it was covered in pictures rather than the paintings that covered the other walls in the rest of the house, pictures of a family. Almost all of them looked like they had been taken professionally but there were a few snap shots scattered in between, smiles that where too bright to be kept away in a box in some closet. Leaning forwards I realized with a jolt that in the middle a lot of these photos was my father, smiling happily with arms surrounding his companions.

I stood still, feeling my heart constrict when I came to the revelation that to this _family,_ the building I was standing in was _home_. This was no base to move to and from as he searched for me. This wasn't like my rotting little cottage which held only a molding mattress, this was a family home. It was lived in from the jacket thrown over the edge of one of the couches, the flowers in vases around the room, the electrical goods on standby all the way to the pack of cards scattered across the coffee table as if only placed down for a break.

I looked hastily back to the photo's hanging on the walls and let my eyes wander across the faces mainly my fathers. I was face that I had longed to see for so many years but now, that very face made my heart wrench in two. My eyes lingered on a picture straight in front of me. It was one of the largest sitting in a fancy golden frame.

It was a picture of my father standing in a wedding suit, his arms wrapped around a beautiful hazel haired woman who had her ring hand pressed gently over his heart. His own hand was raised to hers showing their two matching rings. It was then I realized that all my true fears had come true - he had remarried, made a new family, moved on and forgotten about me. I let out a small cry of despair, he had remarried after my mother had died, died with her last breath professing her eternal love. I briefly noted two girls standing behind them on another similar photo of the same event in bridesmaid dresses. I wondered hopelessly whether he could even remember who I was.

I moved my gaze to the next photo along and felt my eyes burn with the tears that could never fall. There stood my father, standing next to the beautiful blonde girl from upstairs. She was wearing her pretty white wedding dress and he was in another black suit, smiling with his arm around her dainty shoulder. It was a clear father and daughter photo. I couldn't control the sobs from wracking my frame after seeing this picture, my father with his replacement daughter. But no, it wasn't even a replacement; it was an upgrade from the looks of things. She was beautiful standing there with his shining angelic blonde hair and golden eyes. It didn't look like he was suffering from my loss; he looked happy, ecstatic even. He had moved on.

I pulled… well, rather ripped the picture of my father and this young beauty off the wall and pulled it weakly from the frame with shaking hands. I threw the beautiful frame to the side hearing the glass shatter and stared at the image intently, my thin frame sobbing from the pain I was feeling. My fingers made small indentations into the perfect picture and I let it fall gently from my fingers, the photo flipping on its way to the ground. I saw elegant script in the bottom right hand corner of the picture and I leant forwards with a snip, picking it up again and reading:

_Carlisle and Rosalie on Emmett's and Rosalie's wedding day - father/daughter photo - Summer 2000_

He should have been walking me down the aisle not this stranger, this impostor Rosalie, but in the truth of it she made a much prettier bride than I ever would have. She hadn't really done anything wrong either, I couldn't even hate her. My father had moved on and replaced me and there was nothing I could even do about it.

"What the hell?" a gruff voice muttered from just past the large oak door, "Edward, somebody's broken in." He called, the slamming of car doors and the rushing of feet following shortly after the announcement. The front door slammed violently open and I shuffled into the corner, gripping the picture in my hands for dear life, the picture of my father. I closed my eyes as I heard footsteps enter the house and then hostile growls erupting from throats into the air around me, filling around the room with noise all directed towards me.

"Where's Carlisle?" I heard a male voice growl. I pressed myself more forcefully against the wall, hoping that it would simply swallow me whole.

"Putting the car in the garage, he's leaving it and coming now." I heard a velvet voice speak to my right, a hint of frustration lacing his words.

I heard a final set of soft footsteps approach me but I couldn't dare open my eyes, "Oh, look at the poor dear, she's trembling." I heard a woman's soft voice coo sympathetically.

"Don't get so close, Esme. She might be dangerous, maybe even one of the Italians." A new voice said calmly. I still didn't move - I didn't dare in case one of the creatures attacked.

"What the hell, she's ruined my wedding photo!" I heard a woman spit angrily, the heel of her foot slamming sharply against the floor as she boiled.

"Calm down Rosalie," The cooing female voice was now speaking with a calm authority.

I heard the door swing open and then hurried footsteps, "What's wrong?" I let out a sob at his voice, the voice that had comforted my nightmares in the past, looked after me when my mother had died, the voice that had promised never to leave me. It had changed now somehow; it was still the same voice but much smoother, much more musical in tone.

"We seem to have an intruder," A high pitched female voice this time, one that I was sure that I had heard before in the past.

My father stepped further into the room, no doubt hoping for a better look but I kept my head down, my hair hanging around my face. I heard his unnecessary breathing cease as he finally seemed to recognize me. I let the picture I had been clinging to slip from my fingers and opened my eyes just enough to take in seven pairs of feet surrounding me. I watched the picture slide across the floor and stop when it hit the center set of black leather shoes.

The owner swooped down and placed his fingers upon it slowly, he sighed as his eyes took in the photos contents before flicking up to meet my own. They were my father's eyes, the same shapes and emotions shining through but now they were a pure honey gold colour. The eyes I had been searching for, for so long. I slammed my eyes back shut and crunched up into a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs and tucking my face to my knees as I tried to control the sobs wracking my body.

"Are we missing something here?" Rosalie, the girl from the photo's voice hissed, angry that she felt out of the loop of information.

The melodic voice to my right was no longer laced with agitation but pure shock,, "You have a daughter!" The velvet voice exclaimed in surprise.

"Thank you for that Edward." My father sighed as the others in the room voiced their own surprise.

"What?" a rounded unison of voices rang.

I heard slow, soft, careful steps approach me and then a touch that filled a hole within me, my father placed his palm gently on my cheek and I leant into the smooth skin sighing into a sob.

"Isabella," he whispered slowly as I opened my eyes to gaze into his golden ones.

I felt my bottom lip tremble before I let out one exasperated word, "father..." and then I was wrapped in his arms, held against his chest so tightly I could no longer see anything but his neck where a silvery bite mark lay. I buried my head into his chest and cried. He acted as though no time had passed at all, sitting down on the plush carpets and rocking me in his arms, kissing the top of my head as I gripped onto his shirt with my small balled up fists, ready to never let go ever again.

I felt him turn me slightly so I was looking at the ceiling and felt him push my long brown hair from my face gently as he looked down at me, never taking his eyes from my face which he studied reverently. I could gently hear voices in the background but never anything worth actually acknowledging.

Well, that was until I saw a small hand touch my father's shoulder and squeeze it gently. Carlisle didn't even seem to notice until he noticed my crying increase as I thought of my mother. He noticed immediately and a panicked look crossed his eyes, he seemed to realize what I was thinking immediately. He pulled me closer and gently moved the woman's hand off his shoulder with a soft squeeze.

I saw her walk around the two of us and crouch beside me; she smiled and touched my hand. I immediately jerked away and shuffled off of my father lap to the opposite side from this woman.

"Don't touch me." I hissed with much more force than I meant too. Carlisle turned gently and pulled me back into his arms standing whilst pressing me close to his chest. I noticed the soft smile he sent to the hazel haired woman who now sat on the floor alone.

"Calm down now Isabella…" he said.

I shook still sobbing in his arms, "I-I c-c-can't."

**AUTHORS NOTE: Here's a question –**

**Do you want Bella to be quite aggressive and experienced after wandering the world alone for so long, angry even or naive and innocent and maybe a little petty at times. Let me know the Bella you want to see. I know Bella has seemed quite childlike in these chapters but that's because she has felt like an abandoned child. Now all of that anger could come bubbling up once the initial shock is over...**

**Petit x**


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